what about them?’ She raised her lids and waved an arm towards the window. ‘They can’t afford doctors all the time. And anyway, we could catch a fever in a shop or at church, anywhere crowded.’
‘Best not to tempt fate, though. Now listen to me, girl. I’ve had a word with Skenning Freddie, ’cos we none of us want you wandering about the streets with that cart, not after what you’ve been through . . .’
‘And what, pray, can the clogger do to prevent that?’
Mother smiled knowingly, tapping a finger to the side of her nose. ‘He’s moving out. You know he’s always lived upstairs and his meals cooked by next door? Well, he’s met himself a fine widow woman and he’s getting wed, got a nice little house down Arkwright Street way. So, he’s going to give you half his shop. He’ll use the upstairs for storing his stuff and the scullery for doing his makings. He reckons if he sets up two smaller counters, one facing the other, you could have two shops in one.’
‘But what about his on the spot mending? And his bench for them waiting for clogs?’
Mother shrugged. ‘You’ll just have to squeeze in and put up with the din. He only wants two bob a week. If anybody’s ill, they can send down for what’s needed and you can tell the family what to do. It’ll be safer, lass.’
Philly nodded slowly. ‘Yes, yes, I see what you mean. I have to work, because I’ve a household to run. But there’s no point in me looking for trouble, is there? A counter in the clogger’s won’t keep me away from illness, but at least I won’t be meeting it head-on day after day. And I’d not have far to come for stock, would I?’
‘That’s right. You could nip home any time for a cup of tea and a look at the baby. As for me – well, I’ll stop off the gin in the daytime, make sure the lad’s minded. Unless you think her next door’ll feel a bit pushed out . . . ?’
‘Edie’s not like that.’ She thought for several seconds. ‘I’ll still have to take some risks, though. Births and deaths – they’ll need me then. Unless I know for certain sure there’s danger in the house, then I’ll have to go.’
‘Fair enough. Shall I tell Skenning Freddie he’s on? Only he’s bought all the wood for the new counters . . .’
‘See! You’d it all planned behind me back . . .’
‘Aye well. Somebody’s got to put your head on straight, Ma Maguire. And if it takes the clogger and an old drunk to do it, then so be it.’
Mother Blue leaned forward to poke the fire to life under the kettle.
‘What’s your real name?’ asked Philly suddenly. ‘You surely haven’t been Mother Blue from birth?’
‘I’m Kate. And since I was found, or so I’m told, out on a doorstep on a lovely clear day, they called me Katherine Sky. That was turned to “Sky Blue” and the rest just followed.’
‘Well, go into the scullery, Katherine Sky and see what did Father O’Grady bring for you. It’s a token of my thanks.’
The old lady bustled out, then, after a great many exclamations of joy and incredulity, she returned without bonnet and with a full head of mid-brown hair. ‘Oh my goodness,’ she cried at the mirror. ‘What am I like? Dear Lord, I’ll get a man at the finish just as I always said! A few pot teeth and I’m on, eh? Would you take a look at that, now! Where the hell did he get it?’
‘From a nun.’
‘From a nun? You mean I’m wearing a bloody nun’s hair?’
‘Yes,’ giggled Philly. ‘They have it cut off when they take the veil, then it’s sold for wigs. So. That belonged to a very good woman. And it still does, for I’ll vouch for you any day.’
The old woman began to laugh uncontrollably, bending double with the agony of it. ‘I always said . . . when I was little . . . and they strapped me . . . never enough to eat . . . oh, I said I’d get me own back! But I never thought I’d be taking the head off one of them! Forget the tea, lass! I’m off
‘Best not to tempt fate, though. Now listen to me, girl. I’ve had a word with Skenning Freddie, ’cos we none of us want you wandering about the streets with that cart, not after what you’ve been through . . .’
‘And what, pray, can the clogger do to prevent that?’
Mother smiled knowingly, tapping a finger to the side of her nose. ‘He’s moving out. You know he’s always lived upstairs and his meals cooked by next door? Well, he’s met himself a fine widow woman and he’s getting wed, got a nice little house down Arkwright Street way. So, he’s going to give you half his shop. He’ll use the upstairs for storing his stuff and the scullery for doing his makings. He reckons if he sets up two smaller counters, one facing the other, you could have two shops in one.’
‘But what about his on the spot mending? And his bench for them waiting for clogs?’
Mother shrugged. ‘You’ll just have to squeeze in and put up with the din. He only wants two bob a week. If anybody’s ill, they can send down for what’s needed and you can tell the family what to do. It’ll be safer, lass.’
Philly nodded slowly. ‘Yes, yes, I see what you mean. I have to work, because I’ve a household to run. But there’s no point in me looking for trouble, is there? A counter in the clogger’s won’t keep me away from illness, but at least I won’t be meeting it head-on day after day. And I’d not have far to come for stock, would I?’
‘That’s right. You could nip home any time for a cup of tea and a look at the baby. As for me – well, I’ll stop off the gin in the daytime, make sure the lad’s minded. Unless you think her next door’ll feel a bit pushed out . . . ?’
‘Edie’s not like that.’ She thought for several seconds. ‘I’ll still have to take some risks, though. Births and deaths – they’ll need me then. Unless I know for certain sure there’s danger in the house, then I’ll have to go.’
‘Fair enough. Shall I tell Skenning Freddie he’s on? Only he’s bought all the wood for the new counters . . .’
‘See! You’d it all planned behind me back . . .’
‘Aye well. Somebody’s got to put your head on straight, Ma Maguire. And if it takes the clogger and an old drunk to do it, then so be it.’
Mother Blue leaned forward to poke the fire to life under the kettle.
‘What’s your real name?’ asked Philly suddenly. ‘You surely haven’t been Mother Blue from birth?’
‘I’m Kate. And since I was found, or so I’m told, out on a doorstep on a lovely clear day, they called me Katherine Sky. That was turned to “Sky Blue” and the rest just followed.’
‘Well, go into the scullery, Katherine Sky and see what did Father O’Grady bring for you. It’s a token of my thanks.’
The old lady bustled out, then, after a great many exclamations of joy and incredulity, she returned without bonnet and with a full head of mid-brown hair. ‘Oh my goodness,’ she cried at the mirror. ‘What am I like? Dear Lord, I’ll get a man at the finish just as I always said! A few pot teeth and I’m on, eh? Would you take a look at that, now! Where the hell did he get it?’
‘From a nun.’
‘From a nun? You mean I’m wearing a bloody nun’s hair?’
‘Yes,’ giggled Philly. ‘They have it cut off when they take the veil, then it’s sold for wigs. So. That belonged to a very good woman. And it still does, for I’ll vouch for you any day.’
The old woman began to laugh uncontrollably, bending double with the agony of it. ‘I always said . . . when I was little . . . and they strapped me . . . never enough to eat . . . oh, I said I’d get me own back! But I never thought I’d be taking the head off one of them! Forget the tea, lass! I’m off
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